After weeks of procrastination, planning, brooding, writer's block, and an inability to come up with a halfway decent conclusion, I finally have something that halfway resembles a draft for my college entrance essay. I'm a little worried about the pacing and such, and if I want to use this same essay for my college of first choice, I'm going to have to cut it down to 500 words... but here it is, for your entertainment.

Also, because I probably won't get around to being on BZP tomorrow, merry Christmas and such.

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For some time, the more elite speakers of English have valiantly decried the uprising of slang as it continues to expand and integrate itself into informal speech. The slang usage of pre-existing words such as “awesome” or, more recently, “epic,” they argue, debases the integrity of English and robs the language of its former elegance and respectability.

I believe, however, that there is a far more sinister threat at hand, flying under the radar of these well-intentioned crusaders for the preservation of the English language – the popular misuse of the word and indeed the very concept of irony.

The more modern usage of the words “awesome” and “epic,” though admittedly perhaps overused, come from an understanding and appreciation of the original meaning of the words. These new appropriations merely make use of hyperbole to express the full capacity of enjoyment and sheer entertainment of the given experience. For example, to inform one’s circle of friends after having eaten a particularly delicious cupcake that, “That cupcake was totally awesome!”, while perhaps stretching the original definition of the word, certainly conveys to one’s friends that the cupcake was in general quite excellent. Thus is the very nature of hyperbole as defined by the North American edition of the Encarta World Dictionary – “deliberate and obvious exaggeration used for effect,” the effect here being that everyone present now thoroughly understands the incredible scrumptiousness of the cupcake in question.

The many ways in which “irony” has been abused and misapplied is a completely different story. This frightful misuse stems from a lack of understanding as to the true nature of the concept. For an event or situation to be properly considered ironic, it must result in the opposite effect of what would be expected. Irony is not defined (as many tragically seem to believe) as, “Anything that I think is unfortunate or amusing,” nor is “ironically” a synonym for “strangely.” There is, contrary to popular belief, nothing ironic about being caught in congested traffic when one is already late or the death of a reluctant flyer who perished on his first flight, and it is quite baffling as to how anyone could possibly interpret the inability to locate a single knife among a plethora of spoons as “ironic.” Unless perhaps one was in a knife-making factory, but this justification would require facts not in evidence, and I really do not feel that I should be obligated to go to such lengths to defend what is already a rather far-fetched example.

To make matters worse, the abuse of irony is often perpetuated by people who believe that their use of the word makes them smart or witty. It does not. (However, such an example is, ironically enough, ironic, as these people use the word to make themselves seem clever when in actuality it ends up exposing their ignorance, a fact for which we enlightened may mock them mercilessly.) I do not advocate finger-pointing. If we are to combat this travesty of irony, we will not do so by assigning blame. But if we were going to, my vote is that we blame these people.

This is the terrible problem that our English language is faced with, but is there any possible solution? I have always personally been a strong believer in education. We must educate ourselves, devote ourselves to the understanding of irony in all its intricacies and surprising simplicity. And if you hear someone misapply the word, throw a darn dictionary at their head. Perhaps they’ll learn from the experience.

On Thursday, the history club that I am part of attempted to have a meeting. Only about half the people showed up out of what is already a fairly small group, so the whole thing dissipated quite quickly. There were, however, three people besides me who came and stayed, and somehow, we ended up creating the Super Political Party. The platform, written on the classroom whiteboard and immortalized on everyone's cellphone camera, is as follows.

Super Political

Party

Strobe lights at elections

Reinstate the Alien and Sedition Acts (opposition to this measure is considered seditious, by the way)

Do away with Constitution and reinstate the Articles of Confederation

Candidates are chosen either by a primary or random sample

Candidates are not allowed to speak or explain stances on issues during campaigns

Head of the party is a monkey; whatever the monkey says, the opposite action is to be taken

We don't have any more debt, China

No more free trade

Social welfare= FREE pretzels (This one was mine. I was really, really hungry.)

I think we may have something here. This just might be the change America needs.

So at my school, there is a teacher whom I shall from here on out refer to as “Mr. P.” Mr. P teaches World History and Humanities, the latter of the two I took last year. When he is not teaching, Mr. P frequently wanders the halls of the school, ducking into classrooms to harass kids he knows and sometimes other teachers. It just so happens that he is friends with my current math teacher, who will be known as Mr. V. Nearly every day, (seriously, the whole class, teacher included, once had a mock betting pool set up for what time he would arrive) Mr. P will at some point come into the room, mess up the hair of the couple of kids sitting closest to the door, and then talk for a bit to Mr. V about either teacher-ly things or something completely irrelevant. On Friday, something close to the following exchange took place.

Mr. P walks into the room and, after getting his obligatory hair-tousling ritual out of the way, asks, “So what are you guys learning?”

“Quartic functions,” replies a classmate.

“Oh yeah,” Mr. P says, “‘Cuz the last time I did my taxes, I thought to myself, ‘Man, this would be so much easier if I knew how to do quartic functions.’”

Mr. V says something that I can’t remember in response, and Mr. P calls him a nerd. At this point, one of my classmates says something to the effect of, “Oh, and you aren’t?”

“I’m not a nerd,” Mr. P says, “I think I’m probably more of a dork. But why do you think Mr. V and I are even friends? It’s because I need a nerd like him to do stuff like hook up my PlayStation for me.”

Mr. V retaliates with a jab at Mr. P’s subject: “And the whole time I was doing that, I was thinking to myself, “I wish I knew more about the Revolutionary War. That’d just be so helpful right now.”

Mr. P turns to the rest of the class. “Do you guys know why Mr. V is bald? It's because he's a neo-Nzai. See, if he knew his history, he would know better that fascism is bad.”

“I'm not bald; I shave my head. And unlike Mr. P, I’m a nice person. I don’t have to put down other people to feel good about myself.”

“Yeah, Mr. V’s right; I am mean. You know why? Because when I was in school I had a math teacher who was so mean to me. She was always saying stuff like ‘you’re so stupid, can’t you do anything right?’ She just made me feel so bad about myself that it ruined my self-esteem and it’s thanks to her and math I’m so mean now.”

After this, Mr. V takes advantage of the fact that this is his classroom after all, and tells Mr. P to skedaddle so he can teach his class. Mr. P finally shuffles out to lurk the halls, ruining the hair of any poor sap he encounters on the way who isn’t careful.For bonus points, Mr. P is actually married to a lady who teaches math at the same school. And next semester, I’ll be in her class.

And as usual, I am late to the party. Most of you got back on the forums in what, October? Due to a series of confusing and frustrating events, I am only now able to get back into my old account. What's happened with me over the last six months or so you ask? Oh, you know, nothing much. Moved one year closer to graduation, made some pajama pants, saw more Confederate flags that I've ever seen in my life on vacation, joined a club, ate some sandwiches, took my first AP exam, experienced some DEEP PERSONAL GROWTH, did some time-traveling... er, wait; that last one might have been a dream. I also recently read a seven-page article on ketchup and analyzed it. Yeah, it was for school; you mean that you don't regularly read in-depth articles on condiments and analyze them for fun?

So yeah. I'm not sure where I'll go from here. The downtime has mostly weaned me off BZP, but I think I'll try to join an RPG if I have time. I missed you guys. Cool to finally be able to stalk, umm, I MEAN TALK, to you again. : D

This was originally going to be an image overload post of Outbreak Sims acting cracky, but because my computer is being a stupidface (quite mature, aren't I?) I can't get the launcher with all the screenshots to pull up. So I figured, bah, since I'm in a blogposting mood and I've already got Maj up already, why not show off my own beautiful eyesores works of art? This is my blog after all. I'm allowed to be self-indulgent and think it's all about me.

So, because I am bored and because I can, please enjoy the following crude sketches. If you've already seen them because I've PM'd them to you... well, sorry. I drew them several months ago, so maybe you've forgotten about them by now already and they'll be new to you.

(I preface this with saying that I do not consider myself to be an artist. I'm simply a bored person posting this because it'd be a shame to let a year's worth of blog go to waste and I don't really have anything better to talk about except for complaining and angsting and really, who wants to hear about my problems? That said, if there's anything you think I did that could use correcting, feel free to let me know.)

Out of my original scribblings, this is probably the one I'm most proud of. Any true artist would probably laugh in my face, especially because I HAVE NO IDEA HOW SHADOWS AND SHADING WORK, HUR DUR but I like it. I had to recolor it on the computer because when I scanned it the colors came out incredibly faded, but otherwise that's pretty much all I did to it other than erasing some lines I couldn't get out on the original drawing. Oh, and they're flailing around like that because they're supposed to be dancing. Yeah.

Matthew Benton From Outbreak is copyrighted by Half-Dragon... Actually, I don't think he can be copyrighted by anybody.I apologize for the sideways-ness of this image. I tried to re-upload it the right way, but that proved to be too much effort, so you'll all just have to crank your head sideways to see it properly. I'm not quite satisfied with his face (I think it's his eyes. They're a bit too big and... bleh), but I am quite proud of his hand, even if it's a bit big, and he's actually kind of shaded, which is a huge accomplishment for me. I used pictures of Sephiroth as a model for his hair, and I had One-Winged Angel stuck in my head for I don't know how long after that.

I'm not quite as crazy about this one now as I was when I first drew it, but whatever. In case you hadn't noticed, no, those aren't my own original creations. Bleach is property of Tite Kubo and all that jazz. The things I still like about this are Rukia's hair and torso, Renji's tattoos and tiny pupils, most of Chad, and the majority of Ichigo except for his face, but I'm very proud of his one visible arm and particularly his fingers especially cuz I generally suck suck SUCK at drawing fingers. Oh, and the tiny Ishida. If you were wondering about the even more poorly scrawled heads next to the larger people.... um, it's kind of an inside joke and yeah it's supposed to look stupid. Ahh... And that's all I have to say about that.

A small, simple room, sparsely furnished. There is a plain, yet conspicuous and easily spotted wooden door to the left; unlocked and welcoming. It is quiet and peaceful. Birds may be heard chirping in the early morning calm. All is right with the world. Suddenly, there is a great crash heard, and wall and peace both are shattered. As the dust clears, SOL DE MEDIANOCHE stands triumphantly, blissfully oblivious to the fact that there was a perfectly cromulent door merely feet away.

MEDIANOCHE: I HAVE RETURNED! ONCE AGAIN! [as an aside] Oi, shh, you. It's still meaningful and dramatic no matter how many times I do it! It's my blog! All of your opinions are rejected, so hush up and enjoy the show and let me get on with it already!

*Ahem* So. Lot of stuff happened since I last posted. Let's start from the beginning, shall we? First off, I had my birthday, and it was awesome. Fairly uneventful and low-key, but still awesome. I received cheesecake, a finished room, a new TV for said finished room (I'm very lucky, I know) which my family watched Community, Parks and Recreation, The Office, Perfect Couples, and 30 Rock on (if it doesn't land on a weekend/Friday, Thursday is a great day to have your birthday land on), and The Sims 3/Ambitions which EVERYBODY minus my dad has been playing nonstop since installation. My brother and I have spent a great deal of time geeking out and making avatars of characters from various fandoms; so far we have all the the Arrested Development main cast, several Bleach characters, Dan Stark from The Good Guys, and a few of my own people from Outbreak plus Steven. Yes, Outbreak. Are you happy, Alex?

Aaaannnyway, if you're wondering what's up with the format of this post, that would be the result of spending the last week or so in English on the play The Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov. Yes, the very same Anton Chekhov for whom the Chekhov's Gun trope was named. It's.. an interesting play to say the least. To give you an idea, there is a guy who gives a dead-serious dramatic and emotional speech to a bookcase, and another guy pops into a room to say "moo" and then immediately leaves.

Continuing on the subject of school, I managed to get through a bunch of painful school projects and tests (96 on the Imperialism/WWI unit for AP US History! ^^), and had the privilege of watching THE MOST AMAZING PUPPET SHOW ON EARTH in Spanish class. It was truly incredible. It was put on by our classmates, and it involved three animal friends, a tragic death, and the exacting of gruesome revenge. All performed by innocent Spanish hand puppets. Also there was singing. Yeah. It was a thing of dark and twisted beauty.

In other random news, I discovered I am allergic to soy milk, made a tiger snowflake and got it laminated for free, and explained to a friend how one of my cats thinks he's a dog with art (words didn't seem to get through for some reason.) So, that's pretty much what's been happening with me. Spring Break's finally here, so things are either going to get very exciting or very slow. This being my life, the latter's probably more likely, but whatever. 'S all good.~